Don't Do That
by gumballbat
Summary: Series of random drabbles. May or may not include pairings. Revolves around Sanji mostly, but may include other characters from time to time. May get pretty down in the dumps, so you've been warned.
1. Chapter 1

The blond man woke up, like usual, in his dark room.

The curtains are pulled over the windows. They've been like that since forever. He couldn't remember when they had last been open.

He sighed quietly, turning around under the big blanket. He had so much covering him but he was freezing. He even had a huge sweater and pajama pants on, with fuzzy socks to top it all off. He was still freezing, but deep inside his bones. Cold that would never really go away.

Burying his face into his pillow, Sanji reached for his cigarettes that were located on the bed side table. There was also a lamp there, but likewise of the curtains, he never turned it on anymore.

Slowly, and a bit hesitantly, stiffly even, he sat up, taking the lone cigarette out of its box and picking up his lighter. With shaky hands, he lit up, and immediately sucked a lungful of the cancer causing agents into his already diseased lungs.

Discarding his lighter onto the shelf, and without bothering with an ash tray, the man began to smoke. With the little nicotine filled stick between his too skinny fingers, he pulled in lungful after lungful, hoping nobody would walk into the room that day.

He knew they meant well. But he didn't like it when they saw him like this.

He had enjoyed his time with them. He really had. But now that he was sickly and gross, he didn't want them anywhere near him. He didn't want _anyone_ anywhere near him.

He had been a lost cause from the start anyway...

A sharp knock came from the door. Sanji's head snapped up from his thoughts, considering slumping back into his bed and pretending he had just fallen asleep with the cigarette still lit.

But the door opened too quickly for him to do anything about it. So he looked at the person intruding on his thoughts, preparing to defend himself.

The shock of green hair and not-so-graceful shuffling of boots gave the man away immediately. Sanji bristled. If he was here to fucking berate him and tell him to suck it up again Sanji had half the mind to shove his foot so far up his ass that he'll -

"I got you some soup," came the man's gruff voice. Sanji scowled, and though at one point he'd been very adamant about eating anything presented to him, lately he hadn't been able to live up to his previous way of life.

"Not hungry. Get out," he murmured quietly, his voice hoarse from not using it and smoking way too much.

There was a derisive snort that obviously came from the man.

"I don't believe that. And even if you aren't, you're going to eat this. You haven't eaten anything that you've kept down in a couple days..."

Sanji stubbed out his cigarette on his bedside table, and shrugged. "Not like I can do anything about it."

There was a silence that draped over the two men. It lasted several minutes, until Sanji broke it and nestled back into his bed and blankets.

"I'm going back to sleep. Stop bothering me. You aren't doing any good anyways..."

Another few minutes of silence. Until, with a defeated sigh, the green haired man turned out and closed the door behind him.

Settling in quietly, Sanji pressed his face into his pillow again. He closed his eyes.

It sucked that he couldn't even get the heart up to get out of this damn bed and out of this stupid bedroom that probably smelled like a cigarette's asshole to see his friends. It sucked that he didn't feel like doing anything anymore. It sucked that he felt like he was a damn failure and that he couldn't do anything about it.

Sucking in a shaky breath, Sanji pulled his large blanket over his head. He'd rather be sleeping than thinking about all of this.


	2. Chapter 2

Zoro busts down the door, set on teaching the blond something.

Sanji looked, startled from his rude awakening. The other, bigger man picks Sanji up like he's a toothpick. And, actually, he's not far from it.

Sanji gets slammed against the wall, hard. The blond closes his eyes, and feels other than sees Zoro trembling. From fear, or anger, who knew.

_I deserve this. Break every bone in my body. I fucking deserve this._

Zoro has Sanji a couple of inches above the ground. He's seething with frustration.

But Sanji can the that it's quickly dwindling to sadness.

Zoro presses his face against Sanji's chest. His strong arms wrap around the skinny blond and hold him close.

Sanji begins trembling as well. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Zoro was supposed to find someone new. Zoro was supposed to find someone who wasn't toxic. He was supposed to go out and fall in love with someone and be fucking _okay._

"Sanji, you'll be okay. Alright? I can't... I can't just leave you, I can't just turn my back on you. You'll be fine. We'll be okay," Zoro rasps, and Sanji just shakes his head, because no. It won't be okay. It will never be okay because Sanji always fucks up and he's so screwed up in the head and he's just fucking fucked up.

"Stop," Sanji says simply. Zoro snaps his head up to stare at him.

"What? You won't even try? Won't even attempt?!" Zoro asks, angry once more.

Sanji just shuts down. He can't handle this. Zoro is too perfect for him and he always will be.

He stares off to the side, not daring to even glance at Zoro.

"Fine. Suit yourself. Have fun staying in here for the rest of your miserable life."

And just like that he's gone.

And Sanji's room is plunged into total darkness yet again.

Except now Sanji's crying, while slumped against the wall. Hot tears are running down his cheeks and hands as he attempts to keep quiet.

Zoro deserved better than him. Zoro deserved love. And if Sanji couldn't even get out of his fucking bed, if Sanji couldn't even love himself, then how the hell was he supposed to be good for Zoro?

He deserved better and god, Sanji hated himself.


	3. Chapter 3

I hate it.

I hate the smell. I hate the way he puffs on it so gingerly, so carefully. I hate how it stains everything.

My walls. My car. My carpets.

Me.

The carcinogen filled smoke gathers in my mouth, in my lungs.

It fills me up to the brim. Smoke sips out from behind my eyeballs and it pours out of my mouth.

My walls are yellow and so are his teeth. The ashes get deep into my carpet, of my house and my car.

Everything I own smells like the invading smoke. However, I don't want to spray the much needed air freshener. I don't want to get rid of the smell. I want the smoke to fill me up all the time and never leave.

It's intoxicating.

_He's intoxicating._

Zoro sat in the middle of the living room. He was torn. He didn't have one clue how to help Sanji.

Straight up, he threatened the blond and told him he wasn't going to try anymore. But, that was a straight up lie. He would never give up on Sanji.

And that would most likely be his downfall.

Zoro took the whiskey bottle, and took a large swig. He was in his apartment, wondering just what Sanji was doing. Sleeping, probably.

The green haired man got up. His apartment was a mess. Partially because he hasn't cleaned once since Sanji has been gone.

He didn't want to move anything. That would be like throwing Sanji out. Sanji was coming back. Zoro would be able to cuddle the blond again and everything would be okay.

Zoro took a large breath as he entered the kitchen. He polished off the bottle, and threw it into the garbage.

God, he needed another drink.

The man rummaged through his fridge, looking for a beer. Both of them did the same thing. Might as well get drunk off of beer rather than expensive ass whiskey.

Zoro sighed as he popped open the cap and began drinking. He nearly finished in one gulp.

His fingers carded through his hair. Leaning against the countertop, Zoro looked around the disgustingly dirty kitchen. Sanji would have his ass for this. But, he couldn't do it. He couldn't touch his cooking utensils. He couldn't touch his pots and pans and wash cloths. Zoro just couldn't.

When would Sanji come back to him? When would Zoro get his boyfriend back? When would things go back to normal?

Zoro gritted his teeth. He wouldn't cry. He'd done that way too much lately.

So he got angry.

The man shook with frustration. He chucked his beer bottle at the floor. The glass shattered everywhere, along with the alcohol that was in it.

Zoro was just so mad. Zoro was furious. He was mad at himself, because he fucking failed Sanji.

He was a fucking failure. And he would never be able to help the blond.

It was way too late. He was drunk as fuck. He needed to be at work at seven, and he was going to be a wreck.

Zoro walked over the broken glass, and dropped down onto his couch. He couldn't even go into his bedroom. It still reeked like cigarettes. It hurt everything.

Zoro turned on the TV. He probably wouldn't sleep. That was okay. He'd just go brain dead for the rest of the night.

Rain pelted the roof and windows. Zoro sat staring at the TV, thinking about nothing and everything at the same time.

Mostly, though, it was just him repeating, "_Sanji will be okay, Sanji will be okay, Sanji will be okay..._"

And then the sound of the rain pushed itself into every crevice of his mind, and he melted away for the night.


End file.
